Twin Sisters
by Kelyse Llewes
Summary: Gwyn Granger is the same age as her sister Hermione, and absolutely can't stand her. She thinks Hermione is irritating and annoying. Now right before Hermione's wedding, Gwyn discovers a secret that could ruin her sister's big day. Please review :D!
1. Incomplete

Chapter One: Incomplete

Ugh, it was every sister's worst nightmare, being upstaged by a sibling. A sibling who had to be better than you at everything you did. Every image, for all appearances sake, she was the one person that _had_ to outdo me tenfold. It was absolutely irritating. I usually didn't take note of it. She was just jealous, I told myself. She was just trying to overcompensate for everything she lacked such as grace, beauty and acceptance. Because she couldn't be accepted for who she was, she had to even overdo that one too with the brainy nerd front. Because she wasn't like me, she had to flaunt her way to the top as the smartest know-it-all in the history of the world. That's how she'd always looked to me. I didn't mind a lot of the time. It wasn't even close to being something that should tick me off. Just because she was compensating for the things she didn't have didn't mean it had to take a toll on me, right? I was more beautiful, more graceful, more accentuated in every way but the brains, but no one could say I particularly lacked in those either, except when I sat next to my sister.

Willing with every iota of my mind for the class to be over I watched as the clock ticked slowly closer and closer, and each second it got closer, I edged towards the precipice of my seat. I was supposed to be paying attention to the lecture in front of us, but what had Prof. Binns said that I hadn't already read about or heard about from my sister. She ranted endlessly when we were together. It drove me absolutely insane. _Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, _went the clock. It was nerve-wracking. I wanted out of that class so bad. But I knew there would be no end to it. No design I possessed could speed up the seconds of possibly the most boring History of Magic class there ever was, and that, to me, was a tragedy.

_Rrrriiiinnnngggg._ Ah, finally! Book bag in hand and wand swiftly tucked into the folds of my robe I was flying towards the classroom door in the flashes of flashes. It took me three seconds to go from the second to the front row to the door at the back of the room. _Three seconds_! Did that tell you how much I absolutely hated school? Well not all school—just a few classes to be more precise—but that was just because a lot of my classes contained a student that I saw too much of in my personal time. She was someone whom I would rather not have to see at all for a long extended period of time. But I know that's not entirely possible, especially when that person is my sister, and not just my sister, but also my _twin_ sister. Fraternal twins but twins nonetheless. It was a good thing we were fraternal too because I'd probably want to drown rather than look like her.

Racing down the corridors of Hogwarts I had only one destination: the common room, my dormitory, my four-poster bed. It would have been nice to have someone to go to, but the only person I had to go to lived in London and was currently playing Quidditch for England's team, Puddlemere United. And goodness I missed him so much. I was so jealous that Oliver was older and successful…oh and was an only child!

I was nearly at the Portrait of the Fat Lady when someone caught up with me. Someone whom, even though was extremely good-looking and wanted to be my friend, was one of my sister's best friends and a boy who didn't seem to have a whole lot going for him. Sure if he got out of the rut of 'Chosen One' sooner rather than later he might have a shot at a somewhat normal life, but otherwise, Harry Potter didn't really have a lot of real world potential. Magic flowed so deeply in his veins and truly in the pit of his soul that he was intertwined with it so inexplicably it was hard to describe. How my sister could handle all his twisted fame and bizarre mood swings was beyond me.

"Oh, hi Harry."

"Hi, have you seen Hermione?"

"Um, not really. I just saw her in class, but I didn't check to see if she was behind me at all when I left."

"Oh." He looked disappointed.

"Well hey, it's the end of the day, she should be heading back here soon so it'll only be a matter of time. Just chill in the common room until she gets back, eh?"

"Yeah, thanks Gwyn, I think I'll do just that. Would you like to wait with me?"

"Um…no I think I'll pass. I have a headache sort of, and I would like to go rest for a bit before dinner." I would lie my way out of anything that lead me into a confrontation with anyone, especially my sister, who was due back at any minute.

"Oh, okay. Well I hope you feel better soon," Harry said as I turned and went into the Common Room after muttering the password to the fat lady.

Yeah, whatever. Harry was cute, I'd give him that, but he hung out with my sister, and that wasn't all that great. Anyone who hung out with her was really in for it. She'd be cool one minute and then the next she'd be fuming about something or another. I should know; I've lived with her for the past seventeen years.

Seventeen years of the know-it-all Hermione Granger. How I ever lived through it all was beyond me. I ran up the stairs towards my dorm and wrenched open the door before closing it swiftly behind me. Safe and sound, I thought to myself, knowing that here in my own niche of solitude, I would be okay for at least a few hours. Unless Hermione came in, which was likely, and then I wouldn't be so safe. There was only one person in the world I wanted to see right now. Well…it was a toss up between two people actually. The first one was Oliver, who was out of my reach for at least another couple of days, until he came to visit me. I smiled at the thought. I might just give up hopelessly and go to him now if I could get away with it. The second was my best friend, Liah, who, like the wonder she is, graduated a year ahead of schedule to go into training at St. Mungos. She was truly a genius when it came to herbs and potions and such, a miracle worker, no joke. Liah was my best and one true friend, whom I told absolutely anything and everything. I needed some kind of mental release. This year at Hogwarts without her has just been torturing.

Both my consoles lived conveniently in London and conveniently out of my instant reach. I couldn't even call them like I usually did when I was at home. My parents, both muggles, of course had a telephone, which I used regularly to contact Liah and Oliver, whom both acquired a telephone upon becoming acquainted with me. I hated the uselessness of an owl, though the floo network did look mighty tempting right now. It was building now, the thoughts and ideas of getting away from Hogwarts, away from everything. I was too bottled up in this environment. I needed to escape.

I heard someone coming up the stairs. Light-footed and whistling a light tune, the girl drew nearer and nearer. I knew it would be her. I was getting closer to exploding, to having a mental breakdown. It was just like in the classroom. The rhythmic clunking of the footsteps resembled the ticking of the clock previously and I just knew that as soon as the door opened it would trigger everything. She wouldn't be expecting it, but I didn't care. I didn't really care about her right now. I just needed to get this emotion under control, and I knew it wouldn't do any good to try without having at her once before I left. The doorknob turned. Seconds were measured and my eyes widened and my breathing accelerated. I was suffocating.

She came into view, into the door. Her books in front of her, her brown eyes directed at the floor as she walked in. Her hair, which everyone always thought as bushy but it really wasn't, was curled ever so slightly and tucked behind her ears, a result of leaning over her books constantly all day. Oh and she'd also been flaunting and jumping around in Charms trying her darndest to produce whatever charm it had been. It's been a long day and I've already forgotten about that class.

She looked up, surprised at my being up there. Harry had obviously not told her that I was up here 'trying to get rid of my headache'. Either I should have been thankful or upset. Had he told her she would confront me on my lying. He hadn't told her though so perhaps I should be upset that she had even bothered to come up. It was a two-way toss up and I didn't really feel like getting into it all that deeply.

"Oh, sorry Gwyn, I didn't know you were up here."

I scuffed slightly, wondering at my bad luck. "S'okay. I was just going to lie down and see if I can rid myself of my…uh…headache."

That was an immediate bad idea. I should have just told her the truth. Instead I decided to lie and now she'd be—

"What headache!? You don't get headaches Gwyn, something about your resistant skull repels them like you do everything else."

"Don't start with me Hermione. I do too get headaches, and guess what causes them? Huh? No guesses? You do!"

"What? Me? What did I do to you now?" She then rolled her eyes and answered her own question. "Oh that's right. I didn't _do_ anything. It's just the fact that I exist isn't it? That I upstage you at everything? That's got to be it, right! I'm the big headache."

"You know me only too well kid," I replied, insisting that she was the kid sister. Though she and I were the same age technically, I was born sixteen minutes before her; that and the fact that I was more mature in a lot of ways. My boyfriend for instance, ex-Quidditch captain Oliver Wood, was playing professionally now, and he always insisted that I was very mature for my age. My parents thought so too. Hermione was obsessed with books whereas their eldest daughter, Gwyneviere, was born to be a lady, with much more class and elegance than Hermione could ever hope to accomplish.

"Ugh," Hermione cringed, "Don't call me kid. It's not like that and you know it. Just because you were born first doesn't really make you _that_ much older than me, you know. We still have the same birthday, which we celebrate one the same day, every year. Together!"

"Which is why I don't think I'll be home for this one little sis. I'm sick and tired of being in your shadow. Mom and dad always said you're the smartest and most intelligent and you flaunt yourself in front of them ever single holiday you get. I'm sick of it! And I don't even know if I'm going to finish the school year here."

"Wha—what? I'm sorry. Did I hear you say you weren't going to finish school? Are you…leaving Hogwarts?" She faltered over the words like they'd hit her like a harsh northern wind. I hadn't really given thought to it before, but now it seemed like a serious option. Whatever I wanted to do in the world didn't need schooling; that was for sure. It wouldn't really set a good example, but so what. I couldn't stand it here beside her every step of the way.

"Yeah that's what I said. You heard me right. I'm leaving."

"But—where are you going to go?" She looked heartbroken, like I'd just taken her favorite book away from her.

"I might go and stay with Oliver for a while and then look for a decent job. He and I have been going pretty strong even since he left you know. He visits all the time to see me here." She probably hadn't even noticed.

"Oh." She looked down to the floor and walked over slowly to her trunk. She let her books fall and she sat down on the edge of her trunk. She looked rather…sad, actually. She looked, well, like she'd lost her best friend.

"What's wrong now?" I asked, annoyed at the guilt I was now feeling.

"It's…nothing. I just never really imagined myself being here without you, or you leaving me behind. That's all."

I frowned. She thought we'd be together for a long time before we'd have to say goodbye like this. I didn't see that happening anymore. Those were the dreams I used to have when we were younger, and the best of friends.

I started moving around the room purposefully. I had made up my mind. I was going to write a note to Oliver and tell him my intentions and then pack up and catch a train from Hogsmeade back to London. He would welcome me there. He would trust my judgment. He knew I could take care of myself. He respected me.

I opened my truck and started neatly packing things in. It took me no more than fifteen minutes to get all my things in order. It took me another ten to write a letter to Oliver, explaining what was happening. He would probably meet me at King's Cross Station when I got there.

All the while Hermione stayed silent. She had either been thinking things over or not thinking at all. She'd remained entirely still except for moving once or twice to brush her hair subconsciously over her ears. She was probably thinking of some way to make me change my mind. To make me stay longer perhaps, but we both knew that wasn't going to work. But I knew Hermione. She would at least have to try. If that was indeed what she was planning on doing.

I looked around the room once more, my eyes made a sweeping motion to see if I could find something I had missed. Nothing jumped out at me but Hermione. Still as ever she only twisted her head to look at me pleadingly.

"I can't," I replied to her unasked question. Nothing was said, but her eyes spoke the words her mouth could not. "If I stay, I might as well suffocate myself. I would go crazy. I can't stay here. It just won't work out, even if I do try. This is what I need Hermione. I'll tell Mom and Dad. I don't know when I'll see you again. Bye."

I left the room without a second glance. All through the common room people stared at me, wondering where I was going with my cloak on with a letter in my hand, determined look on my face. Those who knew me, which were few and far between, would have an idea what was up. But others would just wonder what had transpired between Hermione and I. Between me and my twin sister.


	2. Separate Lives

Chapter Two: Separate Lives

"When was the last time you saw your sister, Gwyn?"

I looked up over the rims of my glasses and the morning paper to where the voice had come from. Across the table, sitting very handsomely in the chair with only boxers and a housecoat on was Oliver Wood, Keeper Extraordinaire of the Puddlemere United Quidditch team. Oh, and he was also my boyfriend. And a somewhat nosy boyfriend at that. Since coming to live with him he'd inquired into everything my sister and I had talked about, not talked about; every single confrontation was looked over and diabolically dissected. It was really getting on my nerves.

"I don't know, maybe a couple of months ago. I saw her at Christmas you know."

"Yes, I know that. I was just wondering."

I looked at him skeptically, "Why?"

He held up a white envelope. I raised an eyebrow questioningly, taking off the glasses I needed strictly for reading. "This came in the mail this morning."

He tossed it over to me and the address was written in perfect 'Hermione scrawl'. "Ah." I picked up the envelope and turned it over in my hands. It was thick, expensive paper and inside there was a card. I couldn't grasp at it. I eyed it suspiciously and Oliver chuckled slowly from across the table. I looked at him pointedly. "Don't you laugh at me mister. Do you know what is in here?"

He laughed again and then proceeded to get up and walk around the table behind me. His arms latched around my shoulders as he tried to cheer me up. He was only infuriating me more however. "Honey, whatever is in there is for you. I have an idea however; so don't blame me if I get it right. It'd just be a lucky guess."

He let go of me and turned to rinse his coffee cup out in the kitchen sink. When he was done, I watched him make his way for the bedroom, taking his housecoat off in the process. Amazing.

I turned my attention back to the envelope. _Miss. Gwyneviere Granger, 43 Finchley St, Flat 16, London, England. _What was she not living in England anymore? I had to question at the England addition to the envelope. Without further delay, I ripped open the small white encasement and pulled out the manila and caramel swirled invitation card. On the front it said, '_You are invited to a Wedding.'_

"What!?" I cried before opening the card with much haste.

_You are invited to the Wedding of Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger. Join us on Saturday, April 25__th__ at the Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, at 12:00pm for this wondrous occasion. _

It was written there, in black ink with gold highlights, that my sister, my twin sister, was going to be marrying a Weasley. "Oh. My. God," I whispered. My sister, whom had fought with this redheaded kid for more than half her teenage years, was going to marry him now. He was okay, I supposed, but whoa. She only just turned nineteen and now she was getting married. What was she thinking? Well whatever she was thinking, she wasn't thinking logically. How could she get married at nineteen?

I looked up, bewildered at what I had just seen. The small wedding invitation weighed heavy in my hands. Oliver came out of the bathroom, dripping wet from a shower he had had while I had been busy musing over the envelope. He looked up and saw my face. "Gwyn, are you okay? What's happened?" He walked slowly over to where I was sitting. "Gwyn?"

"Hermione…she…she's…"

He saw the invitation and his eyes lit up in recognition, "Ah. Well it's about time. Ron's been going on about proposing to her for the longest time."

I shook my head at the words and then turn to look at him. "What did you say?"

"Well, Ron, he's been bucking up the courage to ask her to marry him for a long time. Well no longer than a year mind you, but long enough. Harry was telling me just the other day in the change room at the stadium that he was getting all sick of Ron's moaning over the right time to ask her and all the mucky details. Harry must be relieved right now, I'll tell you that."

"Wait, you knew about this, and you didn't tell me?" I wondered, suddenly angry that he'd kept this a secret.

"Well, I thought you were keeping in touch with your sister. You two _did_ spend Christmas together, did you not?"

"Yeah…but that's besides the point. Why did you not tell me that Ron was planning to ask her to marry him? This is a big deal and I wasn't even in on it. My own sister." I stood up and walked towards the living room. It wasn't _that_ messy, but Oliver was a rather lazy person. He was all Quidditch guy and no clean up guy. I still loved him though.

He followed me into the living room, towel still draped around his waist, one hand clinging to it ferociously. Either he was seriously afraid of it falling down or it was just a way to keep his temper under control. He had a short temper span and we were both very heated people when it came to arguing. "Well, hun, I didn't really think you and your sister were on speaking terms. Then at Christmas you and she spend time together and I was just under the impression that you guys had made amends. Sorry for not reading your mind. You're so bottled up all the time it's hard to see what your thinking or feeling most of the time."

"What do you expect Oliver? You go to Quidditch and leave me here most days. I go to work and when I'm home you're either fast asleep or out with your buddies down at the pub. Liah works 24/7 so I can't talk to her, and now _my_ sister is now getting married. Of course I keep it bottled up. Would I want to ruin your life here by telling you? Of course not! I want this to work out and as I see it, this is the only way it can."

"Gwyn, that is a load of codswallop. If you want to talk, you can just tell me!" his voice quieted down a little as he spoke. He was now trying to use compassion to explain things to me instead of getting into a big fighting match. He took my shoulders with his hands and looked me in the eye. "You are the most wonderful person in this entire world to me. I work to keep things moving. If you wanted more time with me, you could have just said so. I always assumed you liked your evenings to yourself and so I went with the guys to the pub. I kept my distance from you Gwyn, because I am never quite sure of what you want. Sometimes I'm afraid to say the wrong thing so I don't say anything at all. You need to open up to me honey, that's the only way this is going to work out."

I was on the verge of tears when he took me in his arms. I inhaled his musty smell that had a touch of cinnamon spice and lemon sprig. He smelled so good. His hair was still wet and it dripped on my nightshirt, but I didn't care. He still wanted me and that was what mattered. I clung back as he hugged me tighter.

In my ear he spoke softly, "Now, as for your sister. Things can either get better or get worse. If you opened yourself up to her a little bit then maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Let her back into your life. You keep her at a distance now and it's tearing both of you apart. Can you imagine how she feels? You're her twin sister and she's reserved for holidays and special occasions now. You shouldn't need a reason to call up your only sister hun. It's just not how it goes."

I pulled out of the hug to look into his big tawny-brown eyes. He smiled graciously at me as a tear rolled down my cheek. His warm and loving hand reached up and brushed away the salty tear and I smiled as best I could back at him. He was so loving and affectionate sometimes, I wondered what I had ever done to deserve such a man.

"Thanks Oliver," I said, "You were always there for me when I needed someone I guess. Thank you."

"No problem babe. Anytime." He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead before moving away and giving me an obvious wink. He turned towards the bedroom and called, "Now come on, let's get dressed and go out."

I laughed, "And where are we going?"

"Stadium, we'll drop by your office to give them an update and then we'll go out to dinner and dancing."

"Ha! Dancing?"

"Yes dancing you ninny. Tonight you gotta show me your moves."

I followed him into the bedroom and he was pulling on a pair of spectacular looking blue jeans. Bare chest and blue jeans just seemed to do it for me. His body was beautiful. "Moves?"

"Yes, moves gorgeous. Now stop admiring and get dressed or else we'll never get out of this flat." He winked shamelessly at me again before grabbing a white-collared shirt and letting it hang open as he sauntered sexily towards me.

"What are you doing?" I laughed, my eyes twinkling with delight. He was so cute sometimes it was hard to resist his debonair charm.

"Trying to pull you under the natural sway of my seductive powers." Oh no. I was suddenly laughing so hard. "Not working?"

I choked to a halt, though still chuckling to myself, "No Oliver. It was working. Too bad it was working only too well. I nearly forgot about going out." It was my turn to wink at him.

While he laughed and buttoned up his shirt, I turned to stare into the antique mirror that Oliver had given me for my birthday. It was gold-rimmed and so elegant. I reached into the drawers of my dresser and then continued towards the closet where all my clothes hung neatly pressed and ready for wearing. It saved the trouble of spell-ironing them before I put them off so instead I just hung them neatly after washing. I picked a pale blue cotton peasant-style blouse to wear as well as tight-fitting blue jeans. Once fully clothed I glanced in the mirror again and flung my light brown hair over my shoulders. It didn't really need to be done in any special way so I let it fall neatly at my back. I spun traditionally to see Oliver lounging casually on the unmade bed. God, he could make a woman melt.

"Well," I said, shaking around devilishly, seductively, "What do you think?"

His eyes scanned the entire length of my body and I smiled smugly, enjoying the reaction I was getting. "Well…" he said as his eyes reached my chest and neck. He was up off the bed in one swift motion and at my side instantly. His hands moved over my hips and up the sides of my body before coming to my neck. His voice dropped to a whisper, "You…are so beautiful. And so sexy too." His head dropped to the open neck of my blouse and he gently kissed my collarbone, along my neck and finally my mouth. It was all desire and all the lightest feather touch. Tingles went up and down my spine. I absolutely loved it when he made me feel like this.

He drew back to look into my eyes, hands closing over my own. "Now come on," he said, "we're wasting daylight, and I want to be back for midnight at the latest so I can ravish you beyond belief."

I gawked open-mouthed at him, surprised at his uncanny ability to be so blunt. "Oliver Wood! What on earth?!" I was at a loss for words.

"What? What did I do?" He was looking too smug to really look innocent. I just smacked his upper arm and laughed heartedly. Life was so good when I was with Oliver. His grin was intoxicating. "Come on honey, I've said that at least three times already and we're still standing here. Lets get to it while the day is young. We shall tackle the world."

I shook my head in disbelief. He was so enamored with Quidditch sometimes that it was rare when I saw this side of him. His all business side was tiresome at most, but it was a relief that he had a fun and carefree side to him as well, carefree and wonderful. "Where did I ever find you?" I asked him as we walked towards the front door.

He grabbed my scarf, wrapping it around my neck loosely, and then my coat, holding it out for me to slip on. He put his own black woolen coat on as well as a small black toque that kept his ears warm on these cold February days. Facing me he smiled gently and replied, "We found each other honey, no question of fate was required. We've become a single life, destined now to argue, love and tolerate each other for eternity."

I smiled greatly at his answer. I felt his words to be true with every fiber of my being. This was how it was supposed to be. We had been together for nearly four years now. He was so sweet about it when we were younger, well, when I was younger. And now that I was a woman, he and I loved each other with everything we had. We'd started going together at the beginning of my fifth year at Hogwarts. We'd spent the entire summer together. I would go and watch his Quidditch games in London while my parents went to work and my sister went to the library. I don't think Hermione every got the connection I had had with Oliver. He made it official at the end of the summer just as I was going back to school. And even though he was nineteen and I was only just fifteen, he was so sweet about everything. He didn't mind anything one bit. Besides, he had always said I was mature for my age, and I really was. In my last year, the year that I had dropped out of Hogwarts, he was so understanding of everything and I just knew he was the one. Now at nineteen and him at twenty-three, we were still more in love than we were four years ago.

Thinking about Hermione just then made me wonder: Was she as happy as I was? She and Ron hadn't really been an item at school; they just fought all the time. Ron was never at the family dinners or anything in the past two years so I was just curious; did she have what Oliver and I had? Was she really _happy_? I couldn't begin to guess and as I walked hand-in-hand with Oliver down the cobblestone streets of London, I hoped she was. I really truly hoped she found her happiness. But where was I in her happiness? Where was she in mine? I didn't know. But I wanted to know.


	3. Together

Chapter Three: Together

We arrived at the Burrow on the Tuesday afternoon before the Saturday wedding. I gasped in shock when I saw the place where my sister was going to be married. The house looked as if it was going to fall over any second. It had been a long time since I had been to the Burrow so it was probably going to take me a while to get used to things again. I'd been in my fourth year when Hermione came to go with her friends to the Quidditch World Cup. She had invited me out of guilt that she was going and I wasn't. That was actually where I'd officially met Oliver Wood. He had been at the game as well. But the Burrow, as I recall, was only the smallest part of that memory.

Hermione came rushing out to greet us, her long curled hair blowing out gracefully behind her. She'd changed a lot in the last two years and I could tell she was maturing into a grown woman at an alarming rate. "Gwyn! Wood! Oh gosh, I'm so glad you're here!" She rushed up to Oliver first and gave him a nice big hug. She then turned to embrace me briefly. She grabbed my hand instantly, like she used to do, and we walked towards the Burrow's front door.

"I wasn't so sure you and Wood were going to come," Hermione told me, still holding my hand. "Wood has such a high priority job that I didn't know if the team would be able to spare him as well as Harry. Good thing though or else we would have had to ask one of the twins to be the best man, or Neville." I glanced quickly at Hermione who chuckled. Both of us knew what each other were thinking. Fred or George Weasley, both of whom were older than us, were not the best choices for best men; they'd be better of being groomsman and that was the end of their responsibilities. And Neville wasn't all that coordinated so that wasn't a good idea either. "But nevertheless, Harry was able to persuade the captain to have a few days off and I'm so glad he's allowed Wood to come too."

Harry and Oliver played on the same Quidditch team. Harry joined up just a year ago, whereas Oliver had been playing for a good three years now. He loved playing professional Quidditch. He lived and breathed Quidditch for the most part so it was a hobby and job all wrapped into one. Luckily, having both of the key players involved in the wedding wasn't such a bad thing. The captain and managers of the team had all agreed that one week and weekend off wasn't going to dent their training season all that much. Oliver had been thrilled at a chance to get away. He'd been working constantly during the days to get his physique and stamina up to snuff with the captain's specifications. Of course that did wonders for his body, but he was awfully tired a lot of the time, which was rather draining on our love life.

Hermione continued to drawl on about the wedding and such things like the cake and the color scheme that she and Ginny had picked out. I just smiled and nodded while Oliver held my other hand firmly, knowing how hard this must have been for me.

We'd sent in our RSVP as soon as I'd made up my mind we were going, which was about two days after the wedding. I didn't need that long to think about it. She was my sister after all and so I needed to be there.

In the living room of the Burrow, Oliver sat down and patted at the seat beside him for me to sit at. Harry, Ron and Ginny then came in carrying what looked to be like very old sheets or curtains.

"What are those?" Oliver asked.

"Junk," Ginny replied from behind her mound.

"All this stuff has to be cleared out of the attic, including the ghoul who lives up there if we're going to get everyone in the wedding party to fit in the one house," Hermione explained.

"Oh Hermione, I should have told you. We found a place at the Inn in Catchpole so that we wouldn't inconvenience you in any way. We can still come every day and help out with whatever you need. I just figured that you'd have your hands full and we didn't want to impose." I had said this quickly, hoping that her feelings weren't hurt in any way.

"No, no, that's fine Gwyn. I'm staying there as well. All the girls are, it would seem, except for you of course," she said, nodding to Oliver who would be staying with me, "as well as a few of our 'out of town' relatives. Ron thought that it would be best if just his family and relatives stayed here so that they wouldn't have to inconvenience themselves with traipsing back and forth between Catchpole and the Burrow."

I exhaled, thankful for three things: that Oliver was beside me, Ron was such a genius, and Hermione hadn't been mad at me for not wanting to stay at the Burrow.

"So Ron," Oliver said, "Where are you taking Hermione for the honeymoon?"

"Um…" Ron looked flushed and embarrassed. It would seem that he didn't really like talking about that kind of thing in front of guests. It was only Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Oliver, him and myself in the room so I didn't know what the big deal was.

"S'okay mate," Harry said to Ron, clapping him on the shoulder. "Nobody blames ya that you haven't found the most romantic place in the world to take your soon-to-be-wife." He laughed and Ron turned a deeper shade of red. He didn't really look all that happy with Harry at the moment.

"Oh shoot!" Hermione gasped jumping up from her seat opposite Oliver and myself, "I forgot to tell mom and dad that we were having dinner in Catchpole tonight so they don't need to come up."

"Mom and dad are here already?" I asked.

"Yes, they arrived about yesterday at noon. They're staying at a quaint Bed and Breakfast in Catchpole. Mom's so excited! Dad would just rather have this over and done with. Well, you know dad." She rushed out of the room.

I nodded; I did know dad. He wasn't one to flourish these things. He probably just wanted a small, out of the way wedding, that didn't attract too much attention. He wasn't one for the entire wizarding bit. Mom was more upbeat about that one, which is why Hermione always made her so proud. I nearly rolled my eyes at the thought, bringing back some of those old Hogwarts-days feelings for my soon-to-be-married sister.

Oliver kissed the side of my forehead and smiled to me. He was such a comfort. Ron and Ginny had both left the room, which left only Oliver, Harry and myself after Hermione's quick departure.

"Well, Harry," Oliver said cheerfully, "is there anything you need assistance with?"

"Not sure. You could help us out with that attic project, but I doubt that will be too entertaining. Ginny needs help with her dress though Gwyn, if you'd like to go give her a hand?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem. What floor is she on again?" I asked, dubiously eying up the stairs.

Harry laughed and replied, "Follow three flights of stairs and when you come to the top her room is the first on the right hand side of the hallway. She'll be so glad you've come to the rescue."

I smiled at him. He knew my job was to organize fashion in the high priority magazines of the wizarding world. I collected samples from all over the world and brought them stylishly into easy to wear and affordable to buy materials. It was a great job and I loved to do it. That was why I'd sent the dress designs to Hermione over a month ago so that both hers and my dress would be totally unique. Ginny's was a little simpler than that, as was Luna Lovegood's who was Hermione's other bridesmaid. The maid of honor's dress however, as well as the bride's, had to be a little more extravagant.

I climbed the staircases one step at a time and then let out a sigh of relief as I reached the top of the third staircase. I'd passed Mrs. and Mr. Weasley going up, each welcoming me into their home graciously. I also saw into one of the rooms where Fred and George Weasley were busy shortening and lengthening the tails on their dinner jackets for some fun.

I found Ginny in her room, exactly where Harry has said she would be. "Hi Ginny, having troubles?" I asked, stepping lightly into her room after knocking.

"Oh hi Gwyn, and yeah…I do need help." She looked rather helpless holding the blue-green and purple strands of fabric in place.

"Oh Gin, what happened to the dress?" I asked, pulling out my glasses and wand from my pocket. I went over to the dress. It looked like it had been sheered in half, right down the front of the dress, almost like someone had taken the scissors to it.

"I'm really sorry bout that Gwyn. I was trying to change the neckline a little bit and instead of just cutting out a specific piece, I kind of sliced it right down the center.

I laughed and shook my head, examining the two sides of the front of the dress. It was wonderful fabric. It was satiny but not shimmery and it also had some elasticity, which held to curves wonderfully. I sighed, "Okay, well step out of the dress and I'll see what I can do. Heart-shaped neckline right?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" she looked surprised. She stepped out of the torn dress carefully before handing it to me.

"It's the best neckline that would curve to your bust size and shoulder width," I told her, pointing to her upper body. "Any other adjustments you want me to make?"

"Would you mind shortening the skirt length a little bit? Some of the strands of cloth get caught on the heel of my shoe." She smiled towards me in earnest. I don't think she thought she should be asking me those kinds of things.

I nodded and smiled, "No problem. It'll take me…" I looked at the timepiece on my wrist, "seven minutes approximately."

"Wonderful." She thanked me again and then put on her robes to cover up her scantly clad body. She had only been wearing a pair of blue satin underwear and a matching push-up bra.

"Tell me Ginny," I said while I worked effortlessly on the dress. My wand had been given an 'upgrade' is what they called it at work, so now it hemmed, stitched and sewed anything and everything with that kind of ease. "Your brother and Hermione, do they seem happy together to you?"

"Of course they do. They still fight like cats and dogs mind you, but no one can deny that they look like they're in love a lot of the time. Just the other night Hermione was sitting on the couch beside Ron with her head on his shoulder all curled up in a ball. They looked like they fit together so seamlessly. How come?"

"Well, it's just that I don't know Ron all that well and Hermione is my sister and I just…am a little uncomfortable about the whole thing, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. You'll have to talk to Hermione about it though because I can only get what any outsider can see, nothing more. You need to talk to her."

I knew that was the right answer, but it scared me a little bit. She didn't seem like she resented me that much, but then she was good at hiding things well. In school after we'd had a fight, I was always the one to make the argument visible while she tried to hide that she was upset or angry with me. That might be the case now as well.

I had worked without even really looking at what I was doing on the dress and yet when I looked it over for mis-stitches or cross over stitches, there didn't seem to be any. I held it up for Ginny and she cheered for me. "It's nothing really," I told her.

"Are you kidding me? This is a work of art. Thank you so much. You are so much help." She slipped off her robes and then slipped into the dress. She pushed the blue-green mesh strap over her one shoulder and then I helped her zip the back up and she smoothed it over while turning to look at herself in the mirror. With a flick of my wand her hair was held in place by a few pins and a blue and purple flower. "Oh," she whispered upon seeing herself.

"You look utterly radiant Ginny," I said, still standing behind her. "Drop dead gorgeous."

"I hope not because Harry's my date and I don't really want him to drop dead." She laughed lightly and then went back to staring at herself in the mirror.

"No, of course not," I whispered. "If you don't need me anymore, I think I'm going to go and find Hermione now." I went out the door, not really knowing if Ginny had acknowledged my leaving or not. I closed the door, leaned against it with my back, and heaved a huge sigh. This was going to be harder than I had previously thought. Hermione would be so busy. How would I reconcile with her with so little time to us? Perhaps it would be better to talk later at the Inn. That way she would be alone.

I walked down the stairs slowly and on the second floor I met up with Oliver. Without really thinking I went over to him and put my arms around him. He was so warm and soft and strong. I absolutely loved being in his arms. It made me feel strong and safe. "Hey hun," he whispered into my hair.

"Hi."

"What's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered into his shirt. "Just tired really."

"Truthfully?" he asked.

"Yeah. Tired of this wall between Hermione and I. Tired of having to do all this before the wedding in just a few days. Tired of being here already, even though we just got here." I hugged him tighter.

"Let's go to dinner then my love," he suggested. "We can have some time to ourselves?"

I loosened my grip ever so slightly and looked up into his big brown eyes. "Yeah, that sounds nice."

He leaned down and kissed me on the lips quickly. "Lets go tell the hostess shall we?" I groaned. "Or Mrs. Weasley can pass along the message, but I don't think that would put you back in your sister's good books."

"Ah, your right. Come on; let's go find her. I'm tired and I'll come back tomorrow and be ready for anything." My confidence seemed to amuse him so he chuckled lightly as we turned to walk down the stairs. "What's so funny?"

"You are so cute sometimes. It's hard to imagine my life without someone as wonderful as you are. I'm so in love with you Gwyn."

I smiled, knowing that I need not reply. He loved me like no other and I was thankful for that. As we walked out of the Burrow and towards the front garden where Hermione was standing with a few others I wondered if Ron made her this happy. I wondered if things were this great with them. I hadn't really seen them all that together with each other just yet. They kept their distance; a result of having been friends for eight years before deciding they loved one another as more than just friends. As we walked towards Hermione and the others I noticed Ron was one of them. His hand was placed gently on the small of Hermione's back, a very affectionate gesture.

Oliver, seeming to read my mind, noticed as well and nodded towards the couple. "You see Gwyn, not everyone can be as happy as us, but they can be happy and in love in their own way."

I looked at him, his smile, his love, and wondered if I would ever fall out of love with him. It seemed next to impossible, even by wizarding world standards. I looked back at Hermione and her man, Ron. Even from the back they looked attuned to one another, just as Oliver and I were. I would find out just how much they loved each other because this was my little sister we were talking about. If he hurt her, he would have to go through me to get to her again after he'd realized what a prick he had been. I wasn't banking on that to happen, but I would be there for my sister. For the first time in two years since I left Hogwarts in such an ungainly manner, I would be there for my twin sister.


	4. Differences

Chapter Four: Differences

Before we went out to dinner that night, Oliver wanted to go back to the Inn to change his clothes and so I did likewise. Sometimes I wonder what is in his pretty little head but I went along with it. He changed his blue jeans to a pair of tan corduroys and his windbreaker jacket for a tailor fitted black overcoat. The way he was dressed made him look as if he'd stepped right out of a fashion magazine. I'd asked him countless times to model for some of the magazines I did business for, but every time he refused saying he'd rather model for me and me alone. Ain't that the truth.

"What's the occasion?" I asked as I rummaged through my suitcase, looking for something that would make me look even half as good as Oliver did.

"No occasion."

"Then why did you change?"

"Those blue jeans are hardly what I would call proper for a nice dinner out with my fabulous girlfriend. Besides, I like these pants better than the other ones. Even though I plan on wearing them for the wedding, I figured one night in them won't hurt, will it?"

I chuckled, "No darling, those pants are fine. I am just curious." I continued to the bottom of my suitcase and found a pair of strappy kitten heels that I didn't remember bringing but was glad I did anyways. I also found a pair of beige dress pants that I had brought to match my white dress shirt. "Hmm…" I said eying up the outfit I had in front of me. "Perfect."

"Did you tell Hermione that we wouldn't be eating with her and your parents tonight Gwyn?" Oliver voice asked, coming from the bathroom.

"Um…yeah. She didn't look too happy about it but she said it was okay. I guess she was more worried about what mom and dad would think." I rolled my eyes as I pulled off my t-shirt and jeans that I'd worn to the Burrow that afternoon. As I slipped on the pants, shirt and shoes I'd picked, I glanced back into my suitcase. Sitting on the top was a cashmere shawl with diamond sequence studded every few inches or so. "Oh, perfect!" I exclaimed.

I was admiring myself in the mirror when Oliver came out of the bathroom. I heard an intake of breath and I smiled to myself. In the mirror, standing just behind my own reflection, I could see Oliver leaning up against the wall, biting his lip slightly.

"Admiring, Mr. Wood?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Mhmm," he said before adding, "I'd be too afraid to touch and wrinkle something."

"I could say the same about you."

He nodded and then held out his hand for me to take. We exited our room and then the Inn and walked down the street to where he was taking me to dinner, The Golden Pheasant. We walked in silence and it wasn't until we were seated in the eatery that I decided to break the silence. "Something wrong hun?"

He looked over smoothly, setting down the menu he'd been looking at. "Of course not love, what made you think that?"

"You aren't saying a whole lot."

"Ah, well I was just mulling a few things over." His glance caught mine and he smiled. I couldn't begin to guess what he was thinking. "Just wondering…with all this marriage excitement…whether or not it had crossed your mind…" He was sweating and my mind was whirling, sending me into a state of shock with the explanations my mind was coming up with. Was he saying what I thought he was saying?!

"What?" I managed to squeeze out.

"Well I mean what with your sister getting married, I was just wondering if you'd thought about…well…"

"Well what Oliver?" I nearly yelled at him, my bum on the edge of my seat in anticipation.

"Well, if you'd thought about maybe how you two got into this state in the first place."

I was confused for a second. I blinked and then retreated into my seat, "I'm sorry, say that again?"

He looked a little resistant to repeat what he said. Had I said something wrong? "Um…" he didn't go on.

"Hermione and I are sisters, Oliver, it's called sibling rivalry and it's been like this for years." He had confused me now. He had started talking about marriage and then this, where was the connection?

"Yeah, I know," he tried to explain, "But you know in a few days it will be her biggest day in her life, and you'll be standing in the wings waiting for your turn."

"My turn?"

"Well yeah, your turn to have the biggest day in your life. I was just wondering if you felt…well jealous in any way?"

"Oh." I still didn't know where this entire conversation had come from, but I wasn't going to argue right now. "Well I hadn't really thought about it."

"Oh okay," he replied, before muttering his order to the waitress. I eyed him suspiciously there for a few seconds. It almost seemed like he had been proposing to me, which I guess would give me reason to be excited and want to outshine my sister, but I couldn't understand his approach. I was jealous of my sister, now that I actually gave it a second's pause, but only because she was getting married. I'd always called her younger—she was my kid sister from the very beginning—and now she was the one getting married before myself. It was rather odd. I couldn't be jealous of her just for that though, could I?

I gave my order to the waitress and then looked out the window. It was a cool night, but not as cold as I would have thought for April. Hermione had always said that she had wanted her wedding in April and for the longest time; I'd said the same thing. We pretended that we'd get married together on the same day, say the same vows and wear the same dresses. I guess when we were younger the entire twin thing was more attuned to who we were. But now that we were both older, nineteen in fact, it didn't seem like that. I'd fashioned Hermione's dress of course to suit her figure perfectly, but I didn't really want to get married in it myself. She'd mailed me her vows and I looked them over. They were simple and elegant, traditional, but not the thing for me. I was too expressive with that kind of thing. Hermione was books and I was clothes. She was the bookworm and I was the social gal. She was water and I was fire. Even though we were twins, it didn't seem like we were anything alike.

Oliver had been looking at me intently while I'd thought this over. He reached out and grabbed my hand from where it was placed on the table before me and said, "A penny for your thoughts?"

I smiled and without looking at him I replied, "That's a muggle phrase love, not a wizard phrase."

"I know," he said, chuckling, "but I just wanted to know what you were thinking and no wizard phrase comes close to it. 'A knut for your thoughts' just sounds wrong."

"Yes, I suppose it does," I laughed. I turned to face him and looked into his tawny-brown eyes again. They were beautiful pools of desire sometimes, caring eyes of comfort, but right now they looked worried; they looked like they were afraid almost. I sighed, "I was just thinking about Hermione and myself, how we're twin sisters and yet so different."

"Ah yes. You were weighing your life with hers I suppose?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"You forget I've been around the two of you for four years and a bit before that. I've seen how different you are compared to her. She's less spontaneous that you are. You are a raging fire my love and she is a cool pool of solace."

I smiled to myself thinking that sometimes Oliver and I were so in tuned with each others thoughts it seemed like we could read each others minds. "Yes," was all I said.

"Don't worry about it love," he assured me, "you will soon see that you are very much alike as well as you are very much different; the equal balance in every equation. Without one there is not the other."

"Where did you ever learn to talk like that Oliver?" I wondered, amazed at his philosophical approach to the entire thing. As long as we had been together he'd been like this but whenever I'd asked this before, he'd just said something sarcastic. I was truly curious now.

He could tell my curiosity was sincere and so he looked at my hand in his hands where I'd left it as we'd been talking. "I don't know," he said, not looking up at me. "I guess it was this amazing girl I met when I was sixteen years old. She was so full of life, I guess I just wanted to be able to comfort her whenever I could, so I went to…her sister for advice."

My mouth formed an 'O' and I was speechless. He had an innocent look on his face, almost like he was embarrassed. "I…I…wha…"

He rolled his eyes suddenly and touched my cheek with one hand briefly. "Breath Gwyn, breath."

I took a few breaths, without the thought even registering that I'd been holding my breath for a good eight seconds before he'd brought me back. "I…don't know what to say. You…you went…you went to…Hermione?"

He got that same look on his face, like he was embarrassed and said, "Yeah, I did."

"Why?"

"Because Gwyn…I loved you. You were twelve years old and I already loved you more than I could explain. She was your sister and I thought that she could help me. She was always so smart and Harry, well he talked about her all the time and how she had read every book in the history of the world, and well I thought she could help me win over the little girl who'd won my heart."

I was speechless again. I was utterly flabbergasted. He'd gone to _my_ sister for advice one how to make _me_ fall in love with him. "What did she tell you?" I wondered.

"Well she said to be patient; that there was no way you would want a relationship now, especially not with someone who was four years your senior. She gave me a few books to read and I read them avidly. They helped me be patient. She then invited you to the Quidditch World Cup in your fourth year and you officially met me, do you remember?"

I just nodded.

"You were such a vibrant fourteen-year old, and I was so in love with you. The following summer she told me that you were ready for a relationship, someone to fall in love with, and without hesitation I was there with you, every step of the way."

"You mean Hermione set me up with you?" I couldn't define the emotion I was feeling. Was it gratefulness or betrayal? Love or hate? It was like the entire beginning of my relationship was a grand plan that my sister and Oliver had plotted.

"No. No Gwyn, that's not how it was. I went to her to ask for advice on love, remember? I was in love with a young girl and I had no cure. She was close to you and I wanted to know you but not frighten you. Please understand that." He was sweating a lot now and looked even more worried that I would be eternally mad at him or something. I wasn't mad at him however; I was mad at Hermione. She'd known the entire time that he'd liked me, and when we were younger up until I was fourteen we had been best friends. She'd kept that a secret from me when we were best friends!

"Please don't be angry with me Gwyn," Oliver pleaded, "I didn't think this would be good, but I thought I had better tell you. I love you so much and now that your sister is getting married I just thought it would…" he didn't finish his sentence. He was watching me carefully now, waiting to see if I was going to explode any second now. "Gwyn?"

I closed my eyes, preventing the tears that were unexpectedly building from falling, before said, "You just thought it would what, Oliver? Thought it would make me see her in a new light?" He didn't say anything and I turned to open my eyes. "She lied to me Oliver. Do you realize this? When we were younger we would ask each other if we knew if anyone liked us, a thing that girls do, that sisters do, and she lied. She never once said that she knew someone liked me. For two whole years she was giving you advice on how to win me and she never once said anything. How do you think that makes me feel?"

"Angry?" he said hesitantly.

"You bet I'm angry!"

"_Who_ are you angry at exactly?"

I rolled my eyes at him, a gesture that he'd done to me minutes ago and replied, "Hermione. How could she keep a secret this big from me?"

"She was trying to help you Gwyn! Can't you see that? She was trying to help you fall in love. Is that such a crime? She was also trying to protect you from being hurt. She helped me be patient so that I wouldn't hurt you. That is the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't."

My tears were flowing freely now. I couldn't believe any of this. The sincerity in Oliver's eyes however made me feel that he was telling the truth. He didn't want to hurt me. And I didn't want to hurt him. That was the last thing on my agenda. I could also see that because what he told me hurt _me,_ he was hurting too.

Hermione was now deep in the mess of my life. My sister, whom I'd been fighting with for years, who was getting married in four days to a man I hardly knew, was now at the root of all my problems. I would never be jealous of her life that was for certain; I would never feel that way about my sister's life because my life was great, except for one thing. Hermione. Jean. Granger. I didn't understand this emotion I felt for her now. She'd kicked me out of her life long ago, I realized, when she decided to keep this pivotal secret from me, and so in return I'd kicked her out of mine. Now she was going to get it. For bringing me back into her life after I'd kicked her out I was going to give her a hurricane of fury.


	5. Game Plan

Chapter Five: Game Plan

When I woke up on Wednesday morning, Oliver was sitting on the edge of the bed. We hadn't really gone to sleep in a huff, but things weren't how they usually were. He kept to his side and I purposely kept to mine, not wanting any kind of comfort at all. He wasn't all that happy when I woke up. His shoulders were hunched and his muscles were tensed. He wore only his boxer shorts and I wore only my nightshirt as usual.

I wondered how long he'd sat there, and what he was thinking about, but I never voiced the curiosity. Instead, letting everything about Hermione evade my mind, I rose and pushed back the covers of the bed. I wiggled over to behind where he was on my knees and gently put my hands on his shoulders. I rubbed up and down his bare back and massaged his shoulders for quite some time before he grabbed hold of my wrists and pulled me into a backwards hug. While I hugged him, my head hung over his right shoulder and I whispered, "Good morning."

He took a deep calming breath and replied, "Good morning."

"Anything I can do?" I asked, wanting to make him feel just the slightest bit better.

"No, nothing." His response was automatic, like he'd been anticipating my question.

My heart dropped to my knees and I tried to withdraw immediately. It seemed to me that over the past few hours he'd thought of how I was acting and he didn't like it. That worried me. He caught hold of me before I went anywhere however and he whispered, "Stay," almost seductively.

I wouldn't let our love become a reason to make each other feel better, not physical love anyway, and I knew that that was what Oliver was thinking. I intervened and said, "Then tell me what I can do."

He sighed and shook his head. "I knew you would avoid it," he said. I kissed his neck gently and waited for him to go on. "I've really messed things up haven't I?"

I thought briefly before answering, "No, you haven't messed things up. It's not been you at all. It's been Hermione and me the entire time. I don't want you to think you are to blame in any of this." Just as he had probably spent countless hours over the night thinking about his side, I too thought over mine. It wasn't his fault in any way and so I wouldn't have him accusing and blaming himself. This was between Hermione and myself and that was the way it was going to stay.

"But it's true Gwyn, isn't it? If I had not interfered then things would have turned out differently for you and her. I feel so ashamed of how I manipulated you."

I shook my head gently, making sure he knew the action well. "I think manipulate defines some kind of control over me. You weren't controlling me. You were doing what you thought was necessary and I followed you willingly; I fell in love with you. I just feel silly that my sister was the puppet master of everything we had in the beginning. Is that how it truly was? Were you so inclined to win my affection?"

"Of course I was. But, Hermione was an afterthought. I was going to ask you out, but I didn't think that would work so well up front because I didn't even know you that well. I wanted to become your good friend before I became your boyfriend. Your sister was no puppet master either. I am not her puppet. _I_ went to _her _because I loved _you_." He pulled my arms from around his neck and with all the finesse of a skilled Quidditch player he pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms around me.

"I still think she deserves a good yelling at for keeping this entire thing a secret from me," I said. "She needs to be confronted. I'm just amazed that she has kept it a secret for that long. Usually she would have blurted these things out before too long. Secrets are like omens for her. At least these kinds of secrets, I'm sure."

"Don't give it to her all that bad, will you? I know you think she deserves it but just remember what this secret has brought you." He tightened his arms around me to prove his point.

I brought my left hand to his cheek and smiled. "I'm reminded of the phrase 'we found each other. No question of fate was required'. Would you call my sister that fate?"

He hugged me tightly, his head coming up against my chest, my fingers threading through his brown hair. "We _did_ find each other. I found you first and then I waited for you to come to me. I think that's finding each other in a sense, don't you think?"

I rested my chin on his head, "I suppose so."

I could feel the grin spreading across his handsome face. I'd forgiven him. Now it was time for my sister to beg forgiveness from me and I would think about it. This was a big thing. Not a small trivial act that could be forgiven with the flip of a mental switch. This impacted deep into my core and I didn't know if 1. she would admit to it, 2. she would actually ask forgiveness, or 3. I was even going to be able to come close to confronting her. It seemed not too bad, but then again, nothing ever did when I looked at it this way. But this was my sister, and she always complicated everything.

"We should get dressed Oliver, and go to the Burrow."

He sighed, "Yes, I suppose you are right." He released me from his tight grip and before getting up I leaned over and gently kissed his forehead, cheeks and finally his mouth. I didn't want him to think I was unappreciative of his comforting words and affection, but then I also think I needed his touch as much as I thought he needed mine.

"Mmm, thanks," he said after I was done kissing him. I laughed lightly and pushed off of him, heading towards my suitcase. He lounged back for a few minutes while I was looking around in my suitcase for clothes, and then he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me. "I love you," he whispered into my ear.

I dropped the items of clothing I was holding and twisted in his arms to look into his gorgeous face. "And I love you," I replied.

He leaned his head down towards mine, he was at least six inches taller than I was, and I leaned towards his. Just before our lips touched however there came a knock on the door. My eyes flew open. "Crap," I muttered.

He chuckled and whispered, "Later then?"

I pouted on my way to the door. This was so inconvenient. Whoever was at the door was going to wish they'd never been born. I swung the door open a little too violently and standing there in front of me, dressed in a simple yellow spring dress and a blue overcoat jacket stood Hermione.

"Oh good, your up!" she exclaimed excitedly. I leaned my body casually up against the frame of the door, tired suddenly that I had to be in her presence this early in the morning. "I was hoping you would be up and ready to go."

"Ready to go where?" I asked lazily.

"To breakfast. Surely I told you about this yesterday?"

"Uh…no."

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that then. Was I interrupting anything?" her cheerful mood made it even more infuriating that she did in fact interrupt something and she just seemed so oblivious to my thoughts and feelings. How she'd ever managed to get Oliver hooked up with me was beyond me.

"Oh no, no," I assured her, lying through my teeth, "I was just getting dressed however. Who are we having breakfast with?"

"Mom and dad," she said, smiling her big front teeth towards me. She said it like it was a good thing.

"Ugh," I whispered to myself, a breakfast date with the family.

"I'm sorry what was that?" she asked.

"Oh nothing. I'll be down in a minute. Where are we going anyways?"

"Just the little restaurant here in the Inn. I thought it would best. The two of them get free breakfast at the Bed and Breakfast but we're staying here and they're staying there and we figured this was the best way to accommodate."

"Right. I'll be down in a few minutes then."

"Okeedoke."

I shut the door slowly as she walked away. I hated the idea of having breakfast with the family. Of course my mother would have everything centered around Hermione and she would force my father to participate and I would sit there as good as useless. It was always like this. Ever since Hermione became a prefect in our fifth year my mother had been ever so proud of her and shocked and dismayed by my relationship with Oliver. My dad was thrilled at Hermione becoming prefect but I remember his look of longing towards me. I gently shook my head towards him and his face fell. I guess he'd been hoping that things would finally even up between Hermione and myself. Brilliant bookworm as she was, who brought my parents every joy they could imagine, she left me in the dust a lot of the time. My mother never got over the fact that I was dating a boy who was four years my senior and it's bugged her ever since. Now this breakfast date with my parents brought everything into perspective. I don't know if Hermione did this on purpose, but she certainly made me look foolish most of the time.

I splashed my face quickly in some cold water before dressing quickly. Oliver wasn't invited but he didn't care. He said he would just go up to the Burrow and see if there was anything they needed help with. I wished he would be there with me as he left but he just replied that everything was going to be all right. I wished I believe him.

I walked into the small restaurant of the Inn some twenty minutes after my sister had summoned me. Dressed coolly in a blue-green blouse and beige dress pants I saw my mom and dad, sitting down with Hermione, deep in conversation. My dad saw me coming and stood up opening his arms lovingly. "My Gwyneviere," he said, using my full name. My dad's name was Jeffery, and was a tall man with loving brown eyes that he'd passed to both my sister and myself. His tall and slender figure was casually dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a t-shirt, jacket slung over the back of his chair.

"Hey dad," I said going into his arms and receiving the much needed parental hug. My mother however didn't get up or greet me warmly. My mother, Clara, was a much more fashionable person and was dressed in a lavender suit, skirt and jacket matching with a lovely violet blouse underneath. Her brown hair was pulled tight on top of her head in a bun with jewelry accents. She was busy talking to my sister. "Having fun dad?" I asked quietly.

"You bet," he said before rolling his eyes. He pulled out the chair for me like a true gentleman and sat back down in his chair.

"…We didn't think that we would have enough time for the honeymoon ideas. Ron still hasn't told me where we are going so I have no idea how to plan for work and things." Hermione was still deep in conversation with my mother, who seemed to be listening intently.

"Well that's just silly my dear. Shouldn't you tell him that you need to work things out for your departure and make sure you're back on time?" She was nearly busting at the seams with all this wedding talk. Even thought both my parents were dentists, a very muggle profession, my mother seemed to be the one who enjoyed causing her patients pain. She was sort of cruel that way.

"I've told him mother. Time and again I've told him, but he doesn't seem to grasp the concept. He just keeps saying, 'it'll be all right Hermione. I have everything under control'."

My dad decided to speak up, "Perhaps you should trust him then darling. Perhaps he just wants to surprise you and when he says he has everything under control, I'm sure he does."

"Oh Daddy, but you don't know Ron. As much as I love him, it seems he's always messing things up. I keep to schedule and he's more of a free spirit kind of guy."

I smiled a little at that thought. I wasn't trying to be cruel or despicable in any way, but it just seemed to happen. I was that bratty teenage girl again who said things just to annoy her sister. "What's he doing marrying you then?" I tried to make it sound like a joke when I finally realized what I was saying, but no one seemed to find humor in my comment.

Hermione looked shocked. "What did you say Gwyn? 'Why is he marrying me?' Um…because he asked me and I said yes!"

"If you two are so different though, what's the point?"

"It's called working out their differences Gwyneviere," my mother cut in, just as appalled at my attitude as my sister was, "And Hermione and Ronald are going to work out their differences just as they have for their entire childhood. I should remind you to do the same." She looked at me pointedly and then my sister. Her silent gestures were famous in this family.

"Gwyn, how can you be so cruel?" Hermione asked me as her hands were shaking and tears threatening to spill over her perfectly rosy cheeks.

"I could ask you the same question, sister." I emphasized the word 'sister'.

She looked confused for a second, like I knew she would. "Wha—what are you talking about?"

"Think seven years ago Hermione, when you and I were closer than anything, and a certain someone came up to you and asked advice on how to win me over." I had her attention now.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open a fraction of an inch. She gulped loudly and said, "He told you then?"

I sat up and leaned towards her in my chair and replied, "Of course he told me. He told me everything. I feel betrayed now. I was twelve years old Hermione! And you were giving tips to a sixteen year old on how to pick me up!" I knew that it wasn't like that. I just wanted to see her cry a little. She deserved what I was going to give her now.

"What!? Is that how you think it was?" she yelled back, defending her position. "Wood came to me for advice and I told him to wait! Not to go ahead and ask you out on the next chance he got. I told him to wait! And you're blaming me for betraying you? How do you figure?"

"Hmm, oh well, I'm reminded of those times when we'd spend countless hours giggling over the names we'd thought of who possibly liked us. Does that ring any bells? You lied to me Hermione."

"To protect you goddamit! Like you said, he was sixteen years old and you were twelve. You were mature for you age god knows, but you weren't ready for a relationship just then. You have to believe me!" She was fighting for her honor now. Three days before her wedding and I dumped this on her. What a world we lived in.

"I don't have to believe anything you say to me. If you can keep that a secret from me for upwards of seven years then who knows what else you've kept from me!"

"Nothing, nothing," she sobbed. "I haven't kept anything else from you."

"I can't believe that! Not after this." I got up from the table leaving my three lone relatives staring after me, eyes in the expression of utter bewilderment. I had done it. I had confronted my sister. Now as I walked away from her, tears swimming in her eyes and down her cheeks, I felt empty. I had done what I came to do. Well, part of it anyways. I didn't feel good about her tears or how I had approached it. It'd been the perfect setup though, and I couldn't help where it had gone. Now that was over. She'd admitted to it. Now what?


	6. Perspective

Chapter Six: Perspective

~*~*~Oliver's POV~*~*~

Standing in the Weasley's living room looking around me was very unsettling. Around me were all sorts of wedding decorations and in front of me on the couch was Ron with Hermione on his lap, crying her eyes out. I'd walked to the Burrow as soon as Gwyn had left to go to breakfast with Hermione and her family. I was apprehensive letting her go alone because I knew she'd probably snap at any given time, and I was right. I shouldn't have let her go alone. Hermione had stormed in a few moments ago with her parents right behind her, just bawling her eyes out.

"RON!" she'd yelled through streaming tears. "Ron."

We'd been upstairs in the attic cleaning out whatever we could manage before the next day when everyone was officially supposed to arrive. He'd heard her the first time and then was up in a flash. It was as if he could sense the air tense in the whole house upon Hermione entering it. I followed him as fast as I could. We reached the ground floor and Hermione had flung herself at Ron. She clung to him with a death-grip.

"What's wrong?" he asked her softly. When she didn't answer he looked longingly at her parents.

"Gwyn," Clara said swiftly and coldly. My heart was in my throat. Her gaze went past Ron and stabbed at me. Gwyn's mother had never liked our match, Gwyn's and mine. She thought it was repulsive that we had four years between us. No doubt Gwyn had mentioned the entire problem of her anger and so now her mother was going to like me even less after ruining the life of her other daughter.

Jeffery spoke up just then and said, "She was confronting about something that Hermione had supposedly done back when they were twelve. Something, that coincidentally, had to do with you, Wood." He looked at me with hardened eyes, but he wasn't past trying to find out the truth of this, whereas his wife wasn't going to be so lenient. "What was she talking about?"

At the question Hermione just started bawling more. Her scream reverberated against my eardrums and I shut my eyes tightly. Ron took her over to the couch and she curled up in his lap, looking for any comfort she could get from him. He was more than willing of course because he loved her more than anything. Gwyn had made a lot of enemies at a really early time in the morning.

Clara went to sit in a chair beside Ron and her daughter while Jeffery came up to me pointedly. I sighed and started from the very beginning, all those years ago when I'd fallen in love with Gwyn. She'd meant everything to me since I first set my eyes on her. I explained coolly to her father, and her mother listened in as well as Ron. They were all silent for the entire story and when I was finished Hermione's crying had been reduced to whimpering sobs.

"Gwyn was under the impression that you went to Hermione for advice to 'pick her up' were her words," Jeffery explained to me. "Is that true?"

I knew I had to choose my words carefully. Saying the fewest words possible would be the best way answer to that loaded question. In this instance, I knew that Gwyn had just said that for the affect. She had wanted to see Hermione cry, just as she'd explained to me before. Mission accomplished.

"No sir. That is not true. I know why Gwyn would say something like that however, but the simple truth is that it is not a nice fact to know."

"Tell us dammit," Clara barked at me. "My daughter is in a near state of shock because of this so you will tell us so help me god!"

"She wanted to see Hermione suffer; to see her cry and broken for her sudden realization of the truth. She was under the impression at first that Hermione had set up her with me, but I knew that to be wrong from the get go so I corrected her. She obviously went with her original direction for a more dramatic effect."

"Ugh, you say this as if it was some big melodrama," Clara said disgustedly, "What is going on here? What can Gwyn be thinking? Why would she want this?"

"Because she's being outshone by her 'younger' sister as she describes it," I explained. "She's upset that Hermione has lied to her all these years. But it's all my fault." I was disappointed that I'd let it get this far and not noticing sooner that it would just explode in my face.

"No, its—"

"Of course it's your fault!" Clara exclaimed, cutting off her husband's words. "And of course, you're going to fix it. You are going to make Gwyn come back here and apologize for every hateful word she said to my daughter."

My gaze narrowed in on Clara. The sheer ferocity that encapsulated her words hit me hard. She was blaming me for everything. I had just taken all the blame and yet still she demanded retribution. I shook my head, "No Clara. I will not do that. I aim for Gwyn's happiness and not her displeasure. In this instance I believe she has used too harsh of words that are deserved but they are still true down to a point. I will not force her to do anything. She will do as she wishes, and I will do as she wishes because I love her and her alone." I turned to where Hermione was silent on the couch, still in Ron's lap. She looked as though the shock had hit her. She was almost catatonic. "Hermione?" I asked politely. Her eyes snapped towards me. "I want to thank you and apologize. This is partially my fault and I'm sorry for that. But I also want to thank you for the same reason I'm apologizing, and for that I am doubly sorry. I never meant to cause you pain when I asked for your advice all those years ago. I'm sorry."

I knew I'd worn out my welcome in the midst of Hermione, Ron, Clara and Jeffery. Jeffery nodded to me as I passed him and I caught the glare that Clara gave him. I'd have to go back to Gwyn and she would decide the next move. No matter what she did I would always back her up. She was my world and I would never do anything ever again to make her distrust me.

I walked out of the Burrow and started down the path towards Catchpole. I was halfway down the hill when I heard rushing footsteps behind me, almost as if someone was running. I turned to see Hermione, wild-eyed and bushy haired, coming right towards me. My eyes questioned her when she was near enough.

"I know what you must think, but I'm not coming to ask you to pass a message. I know you're too smart to accept something like that. And I know you don't want to be in the middle of something like this, but you are, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry that I wasn't the one to tell her all those years ago in the first place-"

"Hermione, you're telling the wrong person all of this. You should be telling Gwyn and not me."

"I know, I know. But I wanted to tell you something first. Whatever happens later, please don't let her leave. Persuade her to stay for my wedding, please."

"I'll do what I can, but I can make you no promises. She will do as she wishes."

"Okay, thank you. Also, remember that there's dinner tonight at the Burrow for the entire wedding party…and that includes Gwyn as the maid of honor." She nearly whispered the last part. It was amazing to see, right before my eyes; I'd seen Hermione get over the fact that her sister was mad at her and almost immediately wish her back into her life. Now all that was needed was Gwyn to find out and accept it.

I nodded and then watched as Hermione turned and walked back towards the Burrow. Ron and the others were at the door watching in wonder at what could have possibly transpired between her and I, but no one knew that except for us. When Hermione reached the door Ron took her in his arms tenderly and nodded towards me. I nodded back and then continued on my way back to the Inn. I hoped that Gwyn was there. Knowing Gwyn though she was probably not there. And if she were at the Inn, then she'd be fast asleep on the window seat, waiting for me to come back to her.

When I walked into our room at the Inn my eyes averted directly to the window seat, but no one was there. There were Gwyn's clothes strewn all over the room however and that made me think that she had been severely mad when she'd come back. But she wasn't there now, so I wondered where she was? I hoped she wasn't in any danger, endangering herself in any way, and that she would be back soon.

There really wasn't anything else to do in the room so I left once more after piling all of Gwyn's designer clothes neatly on top of her suitcase. She wouldn't like it if she came home and her clothes were all wrinkled and covered in hotel paraphernalia. I left and walked down the main street Catchpole. It wasn't very busy for a Thursday morning but it was nearing lunch and as I passed the few cafes and restaurants in town I noticed people being seated. They were muggles and no doubt a few wizards trying to be inconspicuous.

I was walking around with no real purpose other than the vague hope that I'd run across Gwyn somewhere in Catchpole. It wouldn't be too hard because Catchpole wasn't a very big town. I doubted that Gwyn would be wandering around. Knowing her as well as I did, I predicted she'd be alone somewhere, staring off into space, thinking over what she had done.

I smiled at the very resilience of my girlfriend. She was someone to be reckoned with in any case; stubborn as hell and beautiful to boot, and I loved every bit of her. Just recently, in the past few days, I'd come to realize just how much I loved her. The thought of losing her to my foolishness was like a blade stabbing at my heart. It ached.

Coming around a corner I looked ahead wearily and noticed a park bench up ahead with a girl sitting on it. The bench sat right in front of the Otter River, from whence the little village's name originate; Ottery St. Catchpole. The girl had golden brown hair and was wearing jeans and a sweater overtop. I'd spotted her easily and I sighed a breath of relief.

I sat down beside Gwyn and as I had predicted, she didn't look at me; she just stared off into the distance, across the river and the rolling landscape of Devon, England.

"I called Liah," she said quietly after a minute or two of silence. "I wanted to hear a friendly voice. It was comforting to hear after all that's happened."

"I can imagine. I just came from the Burrow."

"And?"

"And things are not good. Are you still planning on going to the dinner tonight?"

She looked at me with hurt eyes and I withdrew immediately. She was in pain. "How could I face it? Everyone will know by now. Something like this can't stay caged up long. What would I say?"

I grabbed one of her hands that rested in her lap and smiled gently at her, "You're gonna have to face the light sooner or later. I would like to stay for the wedding you know, it's the nice thing to do." I didn't want her to think that it was upon Hermione's bequest that we stayed. I would have left if she'd made the request first, but I knew Gwyn would stay for me.

"Should I forgive Hermione, Oliver?" she whispered softly, looking down at my hand. Her mind must have been bouncing all over the place. "She didn't do all those horrible things. I just wanted to hurt her as she had hurt me. Betrayal hurts."

I nodded slowly, "I know it does hun, and I know you wanted to hurt her. She should be forgiven though, especially if that's how you feel about the matter. You wanted to hurt her, it's done, now it's time to forgive and forget."

She sighed, "Forget. I don't think I'm going to be able to forget. Tied in with the wedding and all this drama, I don't think forgetting is an option, not when I'll remember these few days as Hermione's wedding for the rest of my life." She turned and looked out over the river.

I tried to guess what she was thinking, but every time I tried to conclude something I fell short. There was no figuring out this wonderful girl, not completely anyways. She was a mystery.

"Forgive then," I suggested. "Forgive your sister and let her forgive you. She wants to, you know."

She chuckled incredulously, "How can you know that for sure. For all you know she could be fuming that I would do such a thing just before she walked down the aisle. She could hate me for dumping this on her mere days before her wedding."

"She doesn't hate you Gwyn," I reassured her.

"How do you know?" She looked at me longingly. She was searching for the answers that I had been searching for in her. She wanted to know what I was thinking.

I smiled encouragingly, which had always worked for me in the past. "Just trust me love," I said, "She doesn't hate you. She's your sister and you are hers no matter if you think otherwise. She'll always love you."

She looked a little apprehensive for a minute or two before letting go of the subject entirely. I wondered if this was her way of dealing with her problems; just working it up and up until it burst and then push it to the back after it had exploded. It seemed like something she would do, but I couldn't be sure. Her silence agitated me and I started to get worried again.

"What did Liah say when you called her?"

"She was shocked just by the fact that I was calling her instead of coming by to see her. Then I told her where I was and it clicked. She must have just forgotten about the entire wedding from being at work so much. She was supportive though. She listened for the most part." She looked straight ahead again with her eyes blurred over with the memory.

I had never had a really good best friend before. I'd always considered Gwyn my best friend, my partner and lover. I could see now that having a friend of her own was easier than her coming to me for everything. Some things were too complex for our relationship and so she went to Liah for advice, which I'd always tried to understand. "Well that's good," I replied, not knowing what else to really say.

"Yeah, I know." She replied without emotion and it was then that I started getting anxious. It was almost as if I needed her to forgive her sister. For all our sakes.

~*~End of Oliver's POV~*~


	7. Friendship's Comfort

1**Chapter Seven: Friendship's Comfort **

It was still early afternoon when we went back to out hotel room, but I was exhausted and fell to the bed instantly asleep. I knew Oliver watched me the entire time. We'd been over so much in such a short period of time; I could hardly understand how we were going to get past this. There was so much.

The bed sheets were soft and inviting and the pillow sucked me into a dreamland that I welcomed with all my heart. It was a sweet getaway. I didn't want to be anywhere but where I dreamed, with Oliver. Just he and I would live like that for the rest of our lives. I could see it, boy could I see it, but I knew that I could only dream it. It would never become a reality. And did I really want it to be?

I couldn't answer my own questions fast enough because I heard a gentle knocking on the door. Padded footsteps told me that Oliver had taken off his shoes and was going to get the door. I didn't want to wake up in case it was Hermione. As much as I wanted her to come and say she was sorry, I also didn't want to see her because it would mean talking to her. I rolled over restlessly and shoved the pillow over my head to drown out the voices at the door.

"Oh my gosh, you're here."

"Yeah, I came as soon as my shift ended this morning. How is she?"

"Not good. She's confused."

"Yeah, I'll bet. You know I should be angry at you Wood?"

"You should?"

"Yes, I should. Although her sister should have told her long ago about all this, you did keep this secret from her just as long as her sister did. I should totally be pissed at you. She's my best friend you know?"

"Yeah, I know. You can be if you'd like. I know you're right. You're always right."

"I'm not always right, but thanks for the compliment. If I were always right I'd be Minister of Magic."

"Oh I am so glad you're here. This will cheer her up so much. Thank you Liah."

"LIAH!" I yelled out loud as soon as I heard the name and jumped out of bed in the blink of an eye.

My hair must have been in a mess, my make-up smudged, and I would look a dreadful sight, but I leapt into Liah's outstretched arms nonetheless. "Hey girl," she said, wrapping her arms around me.

"Liah, what are you doing here?" I asked, refusing to let go of her.

"You sounded like you needed a backup girl this morning," she joked, chuckling to herself.

I pulled back and looked at my best friend. Her blond hair was wrapped up at the back of her head in a very professional looking manner and her face was glowing. Her soft brown eyes smiled at me, as did her mouth with perfect teeth. "Oh I do. I'm so glad you're here!" I hugged her again.

"Let her breath hun," Oliver suggested. I looked over Liah's shoulder to where he stood smiling. I smiled back before releasing Liah from my grip.

"How…Why…?" I began.

"Girl, you sounded like something else on the phone when we talked this morning. Damn I was afraid you'd do something to hurt yourself. I know you're not that kinda girl, but I dunno, you sounded rough. So I talked with my boss and he said it would be cool if I left for a few days. They're overstaffed as it is right now. It'll start getting busier later in the month. And voila, I apparated home to get some clothes and then apparated here." She pulled her grey chemise sweater over her head and draped it over one of the hotel chairs revealing a slim figure in a purple-fringed tank top.

"Oh, you look fabulous," I said.

"Are you kidding me?" she said exasperated, sitting down on the chair. "I do look worse than ever. I've just come off a ten hour shift and I haven't had a manicure for days." She held up her nails to show off her perfectly trimmed and polished nails.

I laughed, shaking my head. Liah had always had more brains than I had and that is why she'd graduated a year before me, but she had some great style. We were both the same age, we both had the same ideals all around, but she was so much smarter than I was. The difference was that I worked for the fashion side of our passion and Liah was working her way up the St. Mungos hierarchy towards the position of Top Healer. Our fashion outweighed our brains sometimes, but when we put on our reading glasses, we looked way brainier. We'd both gotten reading glasses in our fifth year because we'd noticed that seeing the black board for written instructions was getting difficult. We were seeing a bunch of squiggly white lines rather than words. God I loved Liah, she was such a sweetheart and I adored her.

"You came all this way for me?" I asked, feeling guilty that I'd pulled her out of her job.

"Don't flatter yourself," Liah laughed, "I came for your sexy boyfriend too. I had to kick his ass after hearing what he did to you." Her eyes sparkled when she joked.

I laughed. Looking over at Oliver I found him sitting by the window just watching the two of us talk. He was so out of place when we were together. We usually preferred to leave the house when he was around so he wouldn't feel that way. I gently smiled at him. With my eyes I asked him if he was all right and he nodded his answer.

"Well if you'll excuse me ladies," Oliver said, "I believe I'll step outside for a little while. I hear they serve excellent firewhiskey in a pub just around the corner. If you don't mind I believe I'll go get sloshed while you work up an appetite with your girl talk."

Laughed I nodded my agreement. "Thank you Oliver," I said, "for your consideration. But if you get sloshed tonight you are not getting' any." I stood up and walked towards him. He kissed me on the forehead and the twinkle in his eye proved he was just joking. He wouldn't get sloshed. He just wanted to give us some time alone.

"Bye babe," he whispered. He nodded at Liah and she waved lightly.

He shut the door behind him and I dropped into the chair beside Liah.

"I am so jealous of you," Liah said, almost as though she was whining.

"Why?"

"Because darlin', you get to have that," she pointed at the door, "any time you want."

I burst out laughing and twisted in my chair to look out the window, just in time to see Oliver walk down around the corner of the street. "He's a sweetheart. Besides, you've already heard all the details about that story. Been there, done that, several times."

She sighed, smiling, "Yes indeed we have. But he's still as gorgeous now as he was then. And he'll continue on being gorgeous until the day he dies. And you know what," she asked, her voice becoming more serious, "He loves you more than everyone in this whole wide world."

I raised my eyebrows, "Everyone else in this whole wide world? He hasn't met everyone in the world."

She nodded, "My point exactly. He's willing to stop looking for that special someone out of the 6 billion people on this planet because he believes he's already found her. You." She reached over and grabbed my hand, "You aren't mad at him are you?"

I lowered my gaze and shook my head. "No I'm not mad at him. I already told him he wasn't at fault for any of this. It was Hermione."

"I understand why you would want to feel that way hun, but you know deep down, I mean deep, deep, deep down, that it's not true."

"Yeah, I know," I admitted, "It's not true. But you know she still did hurt me. She stabbed me in the back all those years ago, only I couldn't feel it. She betrayed my trust and only now am I finding out about the wound." I twisted my hands in my lap. I didn't want to admit defeat. I'd just yelled at Hermione this morning and it would be over so soon?

"I know what you're thinking Gwyn," Liah said, looking at me perceptively. "After all these years and you still haven't figured out that I am aware of everything that goes on in that little head of yours. Give it up. Defeat to your sister isn't going to kill you. It will release you. You've always had a cause to hate her. She's smarter, shows you up every time you're together. She's getting married before you, and though you've never truly been an older sister, you always did have that trait: motherly and protective. Can you not allow yourself to understand that she wanted to protect you this time? You're the same age as she is, you are at different levels of maturity, but Hermione made the right choice. You weren't mature at twelve when Wood wanted to go out with you. You weren't ready for that kind of commitment. Acknowledge your fault Gwyn. Forgive your sister."

I hadn't noticed the tear that slid down my left cheek. Slowly and surely it fell off the tip of my chin at hit my hands that were still folded in my lap. I took a deep, shaky breath and let it out bit by bit. "You're right Liah. I know you are."

She reached over to grasp my hand once more, giving me a quick squeeze. She winked at me as if to say "there you go." I had all I needed to forgive my sister now. I'd yelled at her, felt my anger, cried my tears, and let go of all the emotion I'd built up inside my chest. It was still a long way from being over, but I felt better now that Liah had put it all into perspective.

I looked up into her eyes, tears now streaming down my cheeks. "Thank you," I mouthed to her before standing up and going to hug her. She stood up also and I cried into her shoulder, her motherly patting on my back and soothing voice told me that it was okay to cry. So I cried. When I had finished crying I pulled back, wiped my eyes and smiled warmly at her.

She did likewise and said, "Now come on, your moping has come to an end. Time to get dressed into something spectacular and meet your man at that pub 'round the corner."

I laughed and walked over to my suitcase with her. She flipped it open and then continued to rummage through it. "Is there not any one thing in here that will look devastating on you?" she asked, holding up my high priced fashion t-shirts and blue jeans. "I mean hun, I know it's not exactly required, but shouldn't you at least…" She had spun in a circle and caught a glimpse of my maid of honour dress that was hanging up in the bathroom. "Oohh!" she exclaimed, running over to the dress.

"Oh no," I cried. I didn't want anyone to see the dress until the wedding day. I had even made Hermione promise not to tell anyone about the dress I'd made for her. Making the dress for her was what she wanted, knowing I worked in fashion, and at the time I didn't see a reason to say no. I had wanted to talk to her seriously anyways, and making the dress for her gave me some reason to do so.

"My dress!" I said, rushing in front of Liah and blocking her way into the bathroom. "My dress. My secret, so back off."

She jumped back, alarmed, "Holy, protective of our clothes are we?" she laughed.

"Damn right I am," I told her. "This dress was made for Saturday therefore it won't be revealed until that day and not a moment sooner. And as for your comments on my other clothes, you know very well that those are classical witch couture fashion items. Don't give me the devastating speech."

She raised her hands in defeat and said, "Fine, fine. What are you going to wear then?"

"Clothes," I said nonchalantly, tossing the remark over my shoulder as I went through my suitcase once more. Liah was right however, there were no clothes in there that would make me look utterly devastating. They were all business and all casual except for my maid of honour dress. "Ugh, I have no idea!"

"Have no fear," Liah replied, moving away from me and over to where Oliver had put her suitcase down. "I have, again," she added, "Come to save the day."

From out of her bag she pulled a gorgeous fire-colour frilled skirt with matching red halter-top that had flowered embroidery and white sequins. "That's an Apple Cameron outfit. Where did you get that?" I exclaimed, moving over to take the clothes from Liah.

"I have my connections," Liah said smugly.

I narrowed my gaze towards her. "I've been trying to get clothes from Cameron for the past seven months and no one seems to know how to get in touch with him. How did you get it?" Few people knew that Apple Cameron was a guy. He was such a mysterious man and his designs were fantastic.

Liah directed her eyes heavenward and shrugged innocently.

My jaw dropped, "No…you didn't!"

Liah nodded, "I so did!"

"Whoa, how…when?" I was in total shock. My best friend was sleeping with a famous fashion designer.

"Um…well about a month ago. Goodness Gwyn, he's so good looking. Anyways, he's offered me a modelling job, only Cameron clothes of course, but oh gosh, he's handsome." She looked absolutely exhilarated when she talked about this guy. I hadn't seen her this excited about a man since our sixth year when she fell in love with Kennedy Dillon, a boy from Hufflepuff a year older than us.

"Sounds like a great guy," I said, feeling as excited as my friend did. "But, the clothes?" I held up the skirt and top.

"Oh well they were meant for me, but I figured you'd need a pick me up and I wasn't going to bring it and steal your thunder. So because we're the same size and I'm feeling particularly generous today, you may have that." She pointed at the clothes in my hand.

"Really?" I held them to my chest. Because I'd been searching for Cameron's creations for over half a year I was devilishly selfish about these particular clothes.

Liah laughed jovially, "Yeah, of course. Duh!"

"Awesome!"

I'm doing your make-up!" Liah yelled as I went into the bathroom to change.

"Fine," I yelled back. The skirt was made of a material that felt like satin and silk but was much sturdier. It flowed over my legs like butter. The top fit perfectly and as I looked into the mirror I had all but forgotten about Hermione. She was far beyond me now. I was having too much fun with Liah to worry about what I was going to say to my sister. I knew it would come to me though. I couldn't be this happy forever, which was against the laws of sisterhood. I had to right what I had wronged, and I supposed that if it was going down like that, I had best go down in flames, in this fabulously perfect outfit that Liah had brought for me. Oliver would say I was beautiful and I would steal the spotlight from Hermione for sure, but only long enough for me to build up my courage to say I was sorry to her. It was the right thing to do. That was what I had decided.


	8. Support

Chapter Eight: Support

_~*~Liah's POV~*~_

As we walked along the street towards the Burrow, I glanced nervously at my friend. She had been very quiet since we left. In the hotel room she had bounced, jumped, trilled, laughed, and smiled numerous times, but now nothing. She clung to my arm fiercely, as well as Wood's. He looked gorgeous as always, and Gwyn dressed simply in the fire-dress I have given her, looked ravishing.

Her objective was to shock and awe, I guess. She didn't want to be seen as the sniveling sister who always worried about where her sister went, who she was with, and what she was doing. She wanted to hit life head on, at full speed. It had just taken her a while to catch on to why she had acted that way.

That was where I had come in, telling her that she had been protective of Hermione her whole life, and yet she wouldn't accept the one time when Hermione, who was in fact the same age, decided to protect her sister. Gwyn saw this finally and then there was no stopping her. She was a speeding train with one destination: forgiveness.

Her outfit was otherwise contradictory however, but I think that was what she had in mind. Her hair flipped on her shoulders nicely. I wished I could have her hair. It had always been so beautiful and shimmery. My own hair was the same, but I wanted the color too. Gwyn's red-blonde hair had been the envy of all my Hogwarts years, and even as I had graduated a year ahead of my best friend, I was still jealous of her hair…and Oliver Wood.

Wood and I had become friends over the years however, and it never developed into anything deeper than that. He was my love-you-like-a-sister's lover, and that was how it would remain.

I looked over at Gwyn once again. She was biting her lip nervously. Typical Gwyn. She was as nervous as the day she told me about her first…um…well…anyways. "Gwyneviere, stop biting your lip," I whispered.

Her eyes snapped towards me. "Was I? I didn't notice."

"I know," I replied calmly. I could tell that it was only her nerves.

She looked more than nervous though; there was something else in her eyes that didn't just show jitters. She looked afraid. "Liah…" she murmured.

"Darlin'?" I embellished.

Her smile turned. "If…if they're all upset with me, can we leave."

I raised my eyebrow, considering, "Its fine with me hun, but ask Prince Charming over there, he's the brains of this operation." I had learned before that Wood was the one who had instigated going to the rehearsal dinner to Gwyn earlier. It was a typical guilt trip move. She would go with him because if she didn't then he wouldn't want to go and he'd have a lousy time. It works a lot of time, and I see it had in this instance as well.

Gwyn looked away towards Wood, who was keeping his eyes ahead, pretending not to hear us. "Oliver?" Gwyn said hesitantly.

"Gwyn?" he replied, turning to face her.

"Can we go…if things get out of hand?" she said quietly. I guess she was ashamed of what she had done and knew that if things did "get out of hand", such as her mother yelling, Hermione crying, everyone accusing her of ruining the wedding, etc, she would want to split fast.

Oliver nodded graciously, "Of course Gwyn," he said softly. His eyes were glowing down at her. Simultaneously she squeezed both of out hands, which she still held for moral support.

I have often wondered why or even how Wood came to be in love with Gwyn. They were years apart in school and even when Wood was around Gwyn it usually seemed like he was there only because of Harry and Hermione and Ron, and not Gwyn as well. I guess that some things cannot be taken for face value, especially when it comes to love.

Upon reaching the Burrow I was a bit apprehensive myself about entering. Not only was I walking into a snake pit, with relatives who would all be somewhat upset at Gwyn for her uncalled disruption to the nuptials, but also I was not technically invited. It would be like walking in on a wedding already in process without being invited. At least that's how I felt anyways.

I looked over at Gwyn, still holding both my and Wood's hands, and she looked somewhat calm, a deceptive serene look in order for her to get away with being okay, for tonight.

"Moment of truth, love," I said confidently, pushing back my own fears and focusing on Gwyn's alone.

She sighed heavily and blinked about a million times before taking a determined step forward through the front door of the Burrow.

Inside was the mingling scent of magic, a common aroma that I was gifted of smelling most days of my life. Having been in Catchpole earlier however I had missed the flavor immensely. Magic has a very distinct smell, like cinnamon and nutmeg and the tang of roses. I have always loved that smell. I don't think anyone else realizes it but me.

The room was bustling with people. Wizards and witches of all shapes and sizes. It was only the rehearsal dinner so I don't think everyone was in attendance just yet, but there were about twenty-five or so people just in the wedding party alone. Thankfully nobody noticed us enter and so I looked around, my eyes searching, while clinging to my best friend's hand, for the one person I know would be looking for her. I was convinced that Gwyn would flip out and burst into tears upon seeing Hermione and I would have to cradle her in my arms the first time Wood broke up with her. He had done that only once about a year after they'd been together.

I clapped my eyes on Hermione who was standing across the room with her hand in Ron's as Gwyn's was to Wood. She was wearing a simple turquoise spring dress with a white shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair was twisted onto the top of her head with strands dangling by her ears. She looked every bit a bride-to-be, as she should. We locked eyes briefly and in that moment of recognition I thought she nodded to me slightly. It wasn't a sign of defeat but rather of acceptance. Hermione I figured understood the crisis that Gwyn was going through, the hurt she was feeling and all she felt was sorry. Gwyn however, being as stubborn as a bull, would not have come tonight, would not have even considered forgiving Hermione had I not been here.

"Liah," I heard Gwyn whisper. I turned and she was staring at Hermione whilst her head was towards me.

"Yes?"

"What do I say again?"

I laughed before replying, "Say what you mean doll, no more and no less. See if you can get her alone before however. There's no need to make another public display." Gwyn cringed. "Sorry hun."

I looked over at Wood, who was looking at the both of us. I raised my eyebrows expectantly. Though Gwyn still gripped Wood's hand like there was no tomorrow, she was more inclined to turn to me for advice. I don't know whether he understood that or not, but he did look a little helpless. This was his opportunity to help her.

"Gwyn, love," he said to her. Gwyn nearly jumped three feet into the air, having been startled by Wood's voice. Wood looked at me for a second, wide-eyed in surprise, and then back to Gwyn. "You know I love you, and I would do anything for you. You're going to be okay. We can get through this." He looked back at me as though he were expecting my approval at what he'd said. I dearly wanted to roll my eyes. It was so typical of him to relate their love to the situation. It was comforting sometimes, I can totally get that, but right now I didn't think it was the best way to go.

Instead I nodded my head and he smiled not only to me, but to Gwyn as well. He then kissed her on the forehead, pulling her tightly into his arms before kissing her on the lips for more reassurance. I squeezed Gwyn's hand for good luck before directing her towards Hermione. Gently pushing towards her sister I went to stand beside Wood before whispering, "Now disappear darlin'," I said. "Gwyn needs to do this on her own and if we are visible then she'll look at us expectantly, wanting us to cut in. So get gone."

I weaved my way through the crowd, making towards the garden entrance. It was open with several chairs out on the lawn. The fireflies sparkled gaily around the tops of the fern bushes and crabapple trees. I lifted my skirt lazily, feeling the smooth silky material slip over my fingers. It was a pale green color that I was wearing, a strapless number that held firm to my upper body and swirled around my lower body. I had worn a pair of beige flats as well just incase I needed to rush after Gwyn if she ran.

I walked around the garden towards the edge of the trees and bushes, watching the lights flicker on and off. It was near twilight now and I sighed heavily, hugging my arms around me. I hadn't brought a jacket, silly me. It was only the end of April after all.

My arms then went up around my head and I twirled gracefully, but in the meantime, my spectacles flew off and landed somewhere on the ground. Ugh I hated glasses, they always managed to lose themselves right at the most inconvenient times. I blinked once and then twice before my eyes adjusted to the blurriness that was all that I could see. I looked towards the grass and sighed despondently. It was a brilliant decision to buy green framed glasses because they brought out the color in my eyes, but near dark with green grass and green framed glasses was just misfortune.

I closed my eyes, my hands coming up to cover my eyelids without messing up the makeup that I had delicately applied before leaving. Just my luck! When my hands came down the blurry scenery was gone, however in its place was a tall handsome stranger that I couldn't quite make out clearly. No glasses.

"I believe these are yours," he said smoothly, handing me something.

I reached out and what I thought had caught his hand actually caught his shoulder. My hand leapt back immediately," Oh, I'm sorry."

"No problem," he replied. "Here." He grabbed my right hand and placed my spectacles in my palm.

I flicked open the glasses and replaced them on my face and everything was brilliantly defined once more. I blinked once more before looking up at the tall stranger that had been kind enough to assist me. It was Harry.

"Harry!" I nearly squealed. "It's been ages since I've seen you." Instinctively I threw my arms around his tall, broad shoulders and hugged him close. It was only a short hug because I knew that if Ginny were around somewhere she would probably attack me.

"Liah," he said, "You look ravishing."

I probably blushed but it was almost dark and so I knew it wouldn't matter. "As do you handsome. How have you been?"

"Not too bad," he replied. "Just getting by, day by day. Trying to put the world back together, you know."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. How're things with the future Missus?"

He smiled brilliantly and said, "Wonderful."

"You handsome devil," I laughed. "Wonderful is a state of being. How has the relationship been progressing I guess is what I'd like to say? Anything exciting?" I nudged him gently.

"What do you mean?" he eyed me suspiciously.

I smiled, "Nevermind. You're as dense about women now as you were back in school. Way over your head, aren't they?" I whisked my hand over his head, only just brushing the tips of his messy hairs.

His hand immediately went to his hair and I raised an eyebrow. "Since when have you cared what your hair does?"

"Since Ginny would kill me if I messed it up tonight."

I burst out laughing. "Why?"

He held up his finger at me, obviously about to tell me off, but he just stood there in that position, his eyes raised towards the heavens, thinking. "You know what," he finally said, "I have absolutely no idea."

We laughed together for a while before I found my seriousness again. "I shall try not to mess up your hair for the remainder of the wedding, so help me god," I said, even raising my right hand as my pledge.

He chuckled. "Remainder of the wedding, eh? So you plan on staying?"

I was rather surprised. "Of course I do. Why would I abandon my best friend in her hour of need."

He looked back into the Burrow, seemingly looking for Hermione and Gwyn. "So you think this is gonna blow over?" he asked, not finding his quarry.

"Listen Harry," I said, rather annoyed at his lack of confidence, "I understand you're Hermione's friend, but I would appreciate it if you doubted my friend elsewhere. She knows what she's doing, has been doing all along. She just hasn't understood Hermione's side."

"And she does now?"

"Ah duh! Why else would she be here?"

"To wreak havoc for whomever and wherever she goes?"

I smacked him in the upper arm. "Listen to me Mr. Potter," I said, glaring at him, "I am not a sympathetic ear for your jokes about Gwyn, so give it a rest." I turned abruptly from him and started walking towards the Burrow.

"Wait, Liah!" He came up from behind me and blocked my path. "Wait, look I'm sorry. I didn't mean any offense."

"I know, I know," I replied, "you were only joking." He nodded in earnest, hoping I had understood. I had. "Exactly," I said, "hence why I do not want to put up with that crap right now when Gwyn is in desperate need of sympathy from friends and family. Seeing her side of the story is what I am doing right now, not yours, not Hermione's, not even Wood's; Gwyn's!" I walked around him without a second's hesitation. Leaving him behind me had been the best thing I ever did.

_~*~End of Liah's POV~*~_


	9. Defense

Chapter Nine: Defense

_~*~*~Oliver's POV~*~*~_

I had been standing inside, huddled by a gaggle of people, half of which I knew and the other half that I didn't know even in the slightest. They were relatives of the Weasley's or of Hermione's. Gwyn would know whom each of them was, but I couldn't seem to find her anymore. She had disappeared and I was getting anxious. Liah had even dissolved into the crowd of lavishly dressed wedding guests. I could do with some sort of comfort at the moment, but it would seem I was shit out of luck.

I saw Ginny to my left and walked towards her, knowing this might be my only chance at knowing where my two escorts were. "Ginny, have you seen Liah or Gwyn?"

She smiled and put her hands on her hips, "Well hello to you too Mr. Wood," she said raising one of her eyebrows.

I had then realized that I hadn't greeted her yet tonight. It must have totally escaped me. "Good evening Ginny, how are you this evening?" I said cordially, attempting to patch up my reconnaissance.

She laughed, "I'm just fine Wood, how are you? Enjoying the festivities?"

"Not so much," I replied, screwing up my nose, as I looked around at the wizards and witches and muggles alike. "Have you seen? —"

"—Liah or Gwyn? No I haven't. Not recently anyways. At the beginning I saw Gwyn head over to Hermione and everyone kind of bolted, as I did. Then Harry and I got separated. I don't recall seeing Liah at all. I didn't think she would be here."

"She came down from London to give a friend a hand," I answered vaguely, still looking around for my girlfriend and her girlfriend.

"Is this a siren call from Gwyn or you?" Ginny asked, noticing my illusiveness. "You seem lost Wood."

I looked back at her and let out a sigh, "I truly am. I am at my wits end. I love Gwyn and Liah both, and so I was really glad she turned up, but I will never understand what goes on between those two. I respect the distance they ask for, but I don't think I'll ever comprehend 'girls'."

This time Ginny laughed loudly. I couldn't help but smiling at her jovial mood. She then came closer to me and put her arm around my shoulders. In her high heels her head reached to just about my eye level. "Let me give you a few tips Wood," she said, twisting us away from the majority of the crowd. "Don't ever try to understand us and you'll do just fine. And just between you and me, there is no use anyway, trying to understand what we're all about because it's a mystery even to us."

I nodded my head and laughed, "Thanks for the advice Gin." I leaned into her and squeezed her side gently. It was a friendly gesture that gave me a lot of strength for the moment. Her advice/secret has also been very helpful. Girls still puzzled me a great deal but now I knew that was okay.

I let Ginny go and weaved my way through the Burrow once more. I hadn't a clue as to where I was going, but when I got there I discovered it was over to Ron Weasley himself. He was in a heated conversation with his older brother Charlie.

I myself hadn't seen Charlie in quite some time and when he realized whom it was coming towards him, he turned and gave me a warm greeting.

"Oliver Wood, el Capitano! Fancy seeing you here, though it doesn't really come as a surprise. How are you these days?"

I took the hand he offered me and shook his heartily, grinning back at his enormous smile. "Fine just fine," I replied with a little less enthusiasm than I had wanted to display.

"Whoa," Charlie said, recognizing my mood, "What's going on with you?" Ron nudged him in the shoulder and looked at Charlie pointedly. Obviously he had already relayed Gwyn's outburst to his older brother. "Oh yeah," Charlie said, realizing his mistake, "Sorry man."

I shook my head and said, "No problem. Just trouble in paradise, you know?"

Ron rolled his eyes. Charlie had seen this too and his face went blank. It was clear that this is what they had been discussing before I had come over to see them. I cleared my throat and then looked at Ron. "How are you Ron?"

Ron was trying really hard to keep his temper under control. I could see that. Right now though, his attitude towards me, and Gwyn no doubt, made me want to break something, preferably his little neck. "Fine," he replied.

Charlie had inched his way between us and from his firm build from dealing with Dragons in Romania; I knew he would be able to keep us from hitting one another.

"Is that so?" I taunted Ron, who was no almost directly behind Charlie. "If you've got something to say, why don't you say it?"

Ron whipped off his suit jacket and tossed it over the back of an empty chair. He wanted nothing more than to take a swing at me as well right now. If Charlie would just get out of the way everything would be just fine. "Fine, I will."

"Fine!" I in turn tore off my jacket and threw it too over the back of another empty chair. I turned back to find Charlie standing in my way. "Charlie, move!" I growled.

He raised an eyebrow, not the least bit intimidated. I had no qualms with swinging my fist in his direction, but it would be an unnecessary casualty that I hoped I didn't have to risk. I wanted to punch someone and right now I wanted it to be Ron Weasley.

Charlie, who hadn't moved, crossed his arms in front of his chest baring my way. "I work with dragons, if you recall. You are not going to hit my little brother."

From behind him I heard Ron growl, "Let me at him Charlie. I'm going to knock his block off."

Charlie turned to see Ron in the same position I was in. I managed to catch a glance at Ron's face, which no doubt mirrored my own.

Rage fuelled my angry thoughts. I'm sure Gwyn probably wouldn't approve; in fact I'm _positive_ Gwyn wouldn't approve, but she was no where around and I wanted to hit someone really bad. And Ron was as likely a candidate as the next poor fellow; the only hitch was that Ron wanted to hit back.

I huffed and puffed, clenching and unclenching my fists, and watched as Ron's eyes went from me to Charlie and back to me. I was doing the exact same thing, taking my eyes from Ron, glaring dangerously at him and then at Charlie, daring him to move out of my way.

Charlie obviously detected the heated air around him and by now several of the wedding party had stopped yapping to wait expectantly at the possibility of a fight. It was almost like going to Hogwarts all over again. I was surprised at the thought of Hermione and Gwyn's grandmother, who had joined the wedding party this afternoon, watching her daughter's beaus fighting one another. I didn't want to swing at Ron per say, but I wanted to take a bloody swing at someone.

Charlie held up a finger in my direction and said, "Let's take this outside Wood. Inside will only get messy." I nodded and turned directly towards the door to the back yard. I didn't even bother looking behind me to see if Charlie and Ron were following. When I finally did turn I found not only Ron and Charlie, but also the entirety of the wedding guests, all of who had gathered around in a circle, as if this were some high school brawl. I half expected them to start catcalling: "Fight, Fight, Fight, Fight!"

I had to admit that this was getting a bit out of hand. Ron and I were friends, and always had been. We'd never swung at each other just for the hell of it. I looked around and saw Harry and Ginny standing in the crowd. Where the heck was Gwyn? I could really use her help right now.

I took a deep breath and held up my hand, "Ron, this is ridiculous. We shouldn't be doing this." I gestured to the half-circle that had formed behind the two Weasley brothers in front of me.

Ron shook his head. "You started this Wood. There's no backing out now."

"I started this?!" I yelled. "How the hell do you figure?"

"Damnit if you had never told Gwyn about what Hermione did for her, this would never have happened. It's all your fault! And I'm not about to forgive you for ruining my fiancée's wedding!"

I stood there with my mouth open, not believing what he was accusing me of. He had the audacity to blame me for ruining the wedding! "The hell I did! You're just making up excuses because you can't control your girlfriend and her emotions. She's a wreck and you know it! But don't you dare blame me for it!"

Ron was enraged and he hesitated only a second before launching himself at me. I had enough time to brace myself before he hit me at full force. His since-school-muscles had hardened considerably from heaven knows what and I was winded and on my back within seconds. I took what knowledge I had of Quidditch, which was many years experience and practice with some of the best players in the League, and swung my weight over towards him and was able to get one punch at his face but my fist grazed his chin and I swung completely around.

I was on my back and before I knew what else was happening his fist caught me in the nose and pain shot everywhere on my face. I cried out, "Argh!" and Ron seemed to be startled at my outburst.

He leaned back and looked down at me and I took that window of opportunity to hoof him in the stomach. He rolled off of me and onto his back. I reached up and found my nose bleeding.

I looked over and saw Ron bent over on his knees, crumpled over because of the blow to his stomach. Serves him right! I crawled over swiftly and took my right fist and connected it with the side of his face, beside his left eye. He went flying back and I crawled on top of him, intending to get my hands around his throat. I had never felt like this before and now that I was buried in the fight there was nothing in the world that could stop me.

My fingers wrapped around Ron's neck and before I could throttle the breath out of the jerk I heard someone yell out abruptly, "OLIVER MICHAEL WOOD!"

I swiveled my head to see Gwyn striding towards me, her arms crossed at her chest and her face set in a scowl that could kill if looks could do so much. "Get. Off. Of. Ron. Now!" she said with each word with a point. She looked positively aflame. Her red-orange dress and golden hair seemed to make her illuminate in her madness. I knew I was in trouble now.

Ron took my hesitation and heaved me off his chest. He jumped to his feet and I watched his eyes dart from Gwyn to the woman standing behind her: Hermione. Her turquoise dress and white shawl looked just as menacing as Gwyn and I almost smiled at Ron's possible fate before I remembered my own. Gwyn was positively livid.

When looking from Hermione to Gwyn I then realized that both of their faces were red and flushed, as though from crying. My lips turned up at the slightest and then Gwyn looked at me again. I tried to shrug the look off but she didn't look pleased at all.

I got to my feet and stood beside Ron. Hermione, from behind Gwyn, turned to the crowd and yelled graciously, "Okay folks. Dinner will be served momentarily. If you'll just go out to the front lawn and take your seats at the tables we will join you shortly." She didn't wait for even a murmur of reply before she walked to stand beside Gwyn. I watched as she laced her fingers with my girlfriends' and couldn't help but smile widely. I could tell that Ron was doing the same.

Gwyn shot us each a disapproving look and said, fiercely I might add, "Wipe those smiles off your faces. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves."

Hermione then joined in. "Damn right! Wood, how could you, Ron and I are getting married tomorrow?!"

Gwyn nodded. "And Ron, what is going through your head? What in the world did you do to provoke Oliver?"

I had to keep a very strict control at my glee seeing Gwyn and her sister. I also found a sense of pride somewhere deep inside when Gwyn pointed out that I would have to have been provoked in order to start a fight, at a rehearsal dinner for a wedding no less.

Ron opened his mouth briefly but Hermione snapped at him. "Not a word Ronald Weasley. Not one word! Get yourself in that house and you will kindly explain to those guests what idiocy was going on out here." Ron opened his mouth again but stopped short by Hermione's yell, "NOW!"

Ron hurried off in the direction of the Burrow without another word. He glanced back at me, looking almost sympathetic at my situation. I did too, knowing I was in for it without my wingman beside me. Ron disappeared through the doorway and I was left to face the two fearsome ladies in front of me and waited for them to pass judgment.

"Well Oliver," Gwyn said at last, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

I opened my mouth once and just like Ron and Hermione, Gwyn shushed me up with one word. "Nevermind." She looked at Hermione and then looked back at me. After squeezing Hermione's hand one last time, she let go and walked over to where I stood. She waved her wand once and cleaned up my nosebleed before leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. "We'll talk later then," she said before taking my arm and dragging me towards the Burrow.

I decided that my fate was less than what I had feared, but then I also feared this wasn't the end of it. I hoped Gwyn would explain everything later as I would no doubt have to explain myself. I dreaded that particular part of our discussion but eagerly anticipated her 'talk later' about how she and Hermione had reconciled.

_~*~*~End of Oliver's POV~*~*~ _


End file.
